Hey everyone, welcome to a casual gamer’s review of Hogwarts Legacy. Now, I know this might be an unpopular opinion—especially if you’ve been on Metacritic, where thousands of users have rated it highly. So, fair warning: I’m probably not winning any fans here.
There are no spoilers in this review, so let’s continue.
This article is just my opinion. I’m not trying to stir anything up—just sharing my honest experience. If you came into this game feeling unsure, like I did, you might not have the best time. And I’ll explain why.
I played it through PlayStation Plus—it was temporarily included in the subscription, so no extra cost. That’s why I gave it a shot.
I ended up dropping it after investing 15 hours. I really tried to enjoy it. According to the strategy guides, I got through about 55–60% of the main story and tackled plenty of side quests too. I wanted to experience as much as possible before forming a final opinion—but I just couldn’t get into it.
I came in with a clean slate—setting aside the Harry Potter books and movies—and treated it as its own standalone creation by a new team. That helped me stay open-minded.
The character creation was enjoyable. I always like putting a personal touch on my avatar. You start the story as a fifth-year student, which I liked—it’s a different take and gives you the challenge of playing catch-up. From a design perspective, that’s clever because it pushes spell skill development early on.
Yes, the game has a skill tree. It’s not super deep, but that’s not necessarily bad. Some players prefer intricate RPG systems; others don’t. I’m in the middle. It’s simplified but effective, which makes it accessible and balanced for many. The skill tree doesn’t even unlock until later. But honestly, it was fine—nothing special, nothing awful.
Back to the story: you’re picked up by a professor who’s basically your guidance counsellor (or whatever else they call it outside Canada), and he escorts you to Hogwarts to start your wizarding journey—witch or wizard, depending on your character setup.
On your way in a flying carriage, bam—dragon attack. The professor’s friend is literally eaten in front of you. You’re falling to your death, then miraculously survive. And this elderly professor, who looks to have trouble walking, just says, “Let’s keep this all secret,” with zero explanation. Cool, sure, why not?
A bit later, you’re in a magical bank, grab a magical item, and then goblins start trying to kill you and said professor. And again: “Let’s not tell anyone.” No reason.
Then comes the reveal—you might be the “chosen one” with access to ancient magic. Not exactly original (think Harry Potter being the chosen one, the boy that lived).
Your custom character? Zero personality. Just a walking mannequin with dialogue options that pretend to give you choice. Be nice and you’re overly sweet; be mean and it’s barely a raised eyebrow. Even when you try to play it edgy, it’s like a professor’s hovering over you saying, “Now now, let’s keep it polite.”
It’s the same issue as Dragon Age: Veilguard—you try to go dark and the game just gently nudges you back to corporate compliance. It’s like your character’s being emotionally always chaperoned.
After nearly dying—once from a dragon, once from goblins—any sane person would say, “Hey professor, how about we call for backup?” But nope. Just more “Let’s keep this to ourselves” nonsense. If it were me, I’d be like, “I think I’d rather go home now, cheers. I nearly got killed twice.” Instead the professor’s just like, “Keep it quiet.” Really? I’m over here thinking, “I’d rather go home and live a peaceful, wizard-free life, thank you very much.”
But nope. Our genius protagonist and equally genius professor decide to roll with it. “Let’s go explore your mysterious powers—with zero support,” which, for me, was the point I checked out.
Now, credit where it’s due: the side characters and professors? Fantastic. The students were charming with their own personalities. And the professors? Top-tier. Great voice acting, quirky and memorable. Honestly couldn’t complain.
Where things unravelled was the quest progression. The pacing just collapsed every time the game hit me with, “Go buy this. Oh, you need seeds. Now get pots. Don’t forget spells.” One professor especially drove me nuts with the shopping lists. Your belongings were destroyed by a dragon (which all Hogwarts professors know about), but instead of helping you out, the school sends you on a Hogwarts-themed shopping spree.
It turned into a loop: make a little progress, stop. Get gold. Buy stuff. Repeat. It felt like padding—and it killed the momentum.
Then there’s the grind for money. Sure, you can find hidden chests or take on side quests, but that means running into enemies you apparently can zap out of existence. Technically you’re “knocking them out,” but they evaporate. There’s no explanation why other witches and wizards are out to kill you in the forest, and no professor says, “Hey, don’t go in there, it’s dangerous.” Just more, “Sure, go help that random stranger with a deadly mission.” Makes no sense.
And then the mission that broke me—no spoilers. I was cloaked, fully invisible, being sneaky… and a couple of bad guys popped out and started talking directly to me. Except they didn’t attack. They just stood there, delivering lines like they could see me. It was clear the game expected me not to be cloaked, except I was and they wouldn’t move. Total immersion killer.
Sometimes the enemies just bug out. You cast distraction spells—they don’t move. Just frozen in place like scenery. Enemy AI overall felt… brain-dead. Combat with bad guys? Clunky at best.
Then there’s the tone. Tons of contradictions with the Harry Potter books and movies. Like Slytherins—everyone from that house was surprisingly nice. In fact, everyone in the game was suspiciously pleasant. It felt like a professor was lurking in every hallway with a clipboard, ready to hand out demerits for rudeness. These are teenagers, not daycare kids. Real high schoolers have spats, drama, mood swings—even between friends. That messiness? Nowhere to be found.
It’s the same issue I had with Dragon Age: Veilguard. No matter how much I tried to play a jerk, the game just wouldn’t let me. I’d pick a sassy or critical dialogue option, and the character would immediately switch to a polite tone like they were in an HR seminar. You couldn’t role-play as good or bad—it was all syrupy nice. And it made every student feel bland and interchangeable. Like Hogwarts had turned into Rainbow & Unicorns Academy.
That said, I get why hardcore Harry Potter fans might still love it. Going to class, learning spells, engaging with quirky, well-acted professors—that’s definitely the game’s strong suit. And Hogwarts Castle? Wow. Absolutely massive, beautifully crafted, easy to get lost in. Thankfully that enchanted-map helps you find your way. Without it, I’d still be wandering.
Honestly, this game could’ve worked better as a live service sim (which Warner Bros studio was considering at one point). Skip the weak storyline and let players focus on attending class, mastering spells, and competing for top marks. That would’ve drawn in a whole different crowd—and probably done well.
Bottom line? If you’re like me, save your money. I didn’t pay extra thanks to my PlayStation Plus subscription, and even then, I couldn’t finish it. That says everything.
If you’re anything like me—don’t even bother. Don’t spend a cent. Even with a PlayStation Plus subscription, odds are you won’t enjoy it.
But for others? You’ll probably love it. The glowing Metacritic user scores reflect that.
Again, this article is just my personal take—I hope it helped you out.
